Concern
by louvreangel
Summary: He was always concerned when they were on field and he wasn't by her side. He was always concerned when she was on a mission all by herself. He was always concerned when she'd return to the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters bleeding. He was always and always concerned about her. (A Clintasha love story, with a little slow burn, before the Avengers)
1. Prologue

**Nothing, not even AoU can take my Clintasha love away from me. That's why I finally decided to write for them! My muse is talking to me...**

 **Disclaimer:** _If I had owned anything, Clint and Natasha would be in a relationship already. Geez._

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He was always concerned when it came to _her_.

He was always concerned when they were on field and he wasn't by her side. He was always concerned when she was on a mission all by herself. He was concerned when she'd return to the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters bleeding. He was _always_ and _always_ concerned about her. He knew she could take good care of herself, god he knew it very well. Yet, he just couldn't get himself to relax, knowing she was out there in danger without him. Since the first day they met, it had always been like this.

At first, it was like an instinct for him to protect her. As if he was protecting a child, or a little vulnurable girl who was in fact far from being _vulnurable_. But in time, this protectiveness changed its shape. He no longer saw her as a girl, quite the opposite, she was a femme fatale, a seductress. She would flirt her way with guys in missions and under that beautiful smile of hers lay a big dangerous assassin. Her one and only genuine smile was only known by him. That made him feel special. He knew he wasn't protecting a child anymore. He was fighting beside a very powerful woman.

He never denied his secret feelings for her. Deep down inside, he knew he was very fond of her. So very fond that it made him put a few missions in danger when he saw her getting hit by a bullet, or collapsing to the ground because of an impact. He'd been yelled by both Fury and Coulson because of this, way too many times to count. He always defended himself, yelled back, tried to explain to them that _he couldn't help it_. At last, Coulson gave up and shut his mouth every single time he wanted to say something bad to Clint Barton—or rather, _Hawkeye_.

One time after a mission, Natasha was heavily injured on her leg and Clint brought her to the special hospital in the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters just in time. They removed him from the operation room and it had been really difficult. He was pretty stubborn about staying and doctors couldn't have allowed that to happen. So he watched everything from the outside, looking through the window at the red haired woman lying on the operation table.

That's when Fury came and stood by his side, watching what was going on in there. They stood there silently for a couple of minutes before Clint said in a low whisper: "I could've protected her. This is my fault."

"You cannot always protect her, Agent Barton. She is a grown woman, just let her be." Fury said back.

But Clint stubbornly shook his head, absolutely not agreeing with the man in charge. "I can't." Was his only reply.

"Is this love, Agent Barton?" Fury asked the same question he had asked Natasha a few months ago. He assumed the answer would be similar to hers but he asked nonetheless.

Interesting thing was, Clint didn't give him an answer. Fury expected him to deny it, or say that it had nothing to do with love. He actually expected anything but silence from him. His silence was a confirmation and they both knew that. Yet, Clint just stood there with his arms folded on his chest, his jaw thicking with what Fury guessed to be frustration. Obviously the question made him feel uncomfortable and Fury knew he wasn't wanted there anymore. So he left him there all alone with his thoughts and guilt.

* * *

" _Is this love, Agent Romanoff?"_

" _I don't even_ know _how_ love _feels. How am I supposed to answer that?"_

* * *

Clint stopped watching the operation from the window when he saw they were giving her electroshock to the heart. Her heart stopped for a while and they were trying to save her with all they had. Black Widow was one of their greatest assets in S.H.I.E.L.D. and they couldn't afford losing her.

He kept his head down, looking at the marbel floor with a blank expresion. She couldn't die on him, no, she had no right to do that. They always returned back to each other, at the end of every mission, every operation, every danger, everything... but not being able to do anything was suffocating. So he did the only thing that first came to his mind; went up to Fury to said only two things.

"If she dies, I'll walk away. Don't ever look for me again or send agents after me. I will make sure they fail." He said with all seriousness he had. Then his eyes softened a little bit at the thought of Natasha surviving and continued. "But if she lives, inform me _immediately_."

And with that he disappared into the dark night of the city without waiting for an answer from him. Clint didn't need to hear what the man in charge had to say when he knew there was no chance Clint Barton would change his mind.

Nick Fury knew that very well.

After four hours—which seemed like ages to Clint—they finally called him. Like always, he expected anything from that phone call. But he wasn't a pessimist like Natasha. So he picked up the phone and prayed to God for the best.

"She is okay." Was the only thing they told him before hanging up. One sentence was all he needed anyway. Not even a sentence actually, just three words to make him hold onto life once again. He was so used to having her around him. They were a team, they were partners... maybe something even more, although they never admitted that. There were a few times where he wanted to quit S.H.I.E.L.D. once and for all but never did because Natasha was there for him every now and then. He couldn't abandon her and he never would. It was like she was his other half. Of course he could still do his job without her, he could still function, but with her he was better. With her, he was _complete_.

He stared at the phone for a few minutes and exhaled the breath which he had been holding for God knew how long. He held the phone to his chest, closed his eyes and said a low _thank you_ , to the now slowly clearing sky.

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 _ **So what do you guys think? I hope you enjoy it and if you enjoyed it, please leave a review or favourite the story!**_

 _ **Chapter 2 will be up in two days.**_

 _ **Stay tuned xoxo**_


	2. Chapter 1

**Yes, I am still mad at Joss Whedon. Yes, I am still not over my overwhelmed feelings for Clintasha. And yes, I will absolutely set Joss Whedon on fire if that fucking necklace on Scarlett's neck (in the new Civil War set pictures) is something related to The Hulk.**

 **Disclaimer: I still own nothing.**

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"You shouldn't have gone into the building without me, Nat. You knew there'd be a lot of snipers and assassins to take us down. We had talked about this before we went to the mission. You took an unnecessary risk." He went into her hospital room saying these exact words furiously. No greetings, no welcomings, no _I'm-happy-to-see-you_ ; he went straight to scolding her for what she had done.

"Well, hello to _you_ too." She replied sarcasticly as she rolled her eyes.

He stood by the bed and looked into her eyes. His eyes were full of anger and fear at the same time. When Natasha saw that, she took his hand into hers slowly, not minding the physical contact at all. On the contrary, it made her feel safe and home. "There were a lot of innocent people in that building, Clint. We had to act fast. I did what I thought was right."

His eyes softened when he heard these sentences coming out of Black Widow's mouth. It was surprising really, how much she's changed in the past 8 years of their partnership. Not that she became a person with a golden heart, no. But she became a person with _conscience_. It was an important step for her. She had never felt pity or the need to save people in her life before. She was an _assassin_ for God's sake, her _job_ was to _kill_ people, not _save_ them. She made progress about the killing part in the past years. Now she was saving people and it really felt good. But nothing held her back from killing those who stood on her way of helping the people in need of saving.

"Well next time, be more careful." He said as he smiled warmheartedly at her. Then he gave a squeeze to her hand. Their fingers were interwined, both feeling warm from the sensation of being able to hold each other's hands again.

Then suddenly someone cleared their throat behind them which made Natasha pull her hand back immediately. Clint frowned feeling the sudden absence of her hand inside his and the way she pulled back actually hurt him deep down. But he was way too professional to make it obvious.

"Glad you're alive, Agent Romanoff." Said Coulson as he made his way to Natasha's hospital bed.

"Thanks, Phil." She said, dropping the surname. It annoyed Coulson whenever she did it while they're on a mission or inside the headquarters. But normally he didn't have a problem with her using his first name. After all, they were friends.

Coulson rolled his eyes and turned to Clint. "I got a new mission for you. Tonight. We need cover from a building, someone who will watch our back."

"You got snipers, go ask them." Was Clint's first answer before he heard the rest of what Coulson said.

"We need _you_ specifically. You will be on top of a building which is two blocks away from ours, and the building you will be on is taller. Only _you_ can see that far. Just build up your nest and do your business as usual." They'd always mess with him by saying "build up your nest" because everybody knew it irritated him. He was not a bird, for God's sake. Well his name was Hawkeye but that was just an alias. Whenever he would stay silent on one spot, watching what was going on from the distance, they would call out to him, asking whether he is happy on his nest. Also because of his alias, nest was quite a suitable word for him—at least that's what the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents thought. They were never out of bird jokes.

Clint considered the mission and made his decision. "I'm staying here."

"No, _mister_ , you are _not_ staying here." Said the woman laying in bed. He narrowed his eyes at her, silently telling her to shut up.

"The Widow's right, you're not staying here, Hawkeye. Now I'm leaving the file here." Coulson said and left the mission file on the nightstand. "You got," he looked at both of them before deciding how much alone time he should give them and continued "two hours before you come to the headquarters and go on the field."

And with that, he gave a curt nod to Natasha and left the hospital room. Clint gave a frustrated huff as he pulled a chair beside the bed and sat on it. He looked pretty grumpy, pouting like a little kid.

"You're an idiot, Clint Barton." She said, her lips curving upwards slowly.

He narrowed her eyes at her. "Why, thank you Natasha. Always nice to hear you call me an idiot."

She rolled her eyes at him. "I hope you hadn't done anything wrong when I was away." She already knew his secret conversation with Nick Fury. She was surprised when she woke up in the hospital room, out from the operation and didn't see Clint there. So she asked Fury where Clint was. Of course he didn't tell her right away. How was he supposed to tell her that he had left, thinking she might not get out alive of that operation room? Black Widow's temper was something he didn't like. But when she threatened him to rip his throat with her knife and tried to get up from the bed while plugged to a few needles, he knew he had to stop her or she would hurt herself trying to free from the wires. She could be such a rebel sometimes.

" _He left saying I am only allowed to call him if you live."_ Fury had summed it up to her with one sentence and that sentence was all she needed to know Clint Barton was an idiot. A big one.

Clint thought twice before answering her but he knew he couldn't tell her what he had told Fury. "I don't think I had." He said and grinned at her.

She rolled her eyes, already aware he was lying. He chose his words carefully, that smart bastard. But she was smarter.

"Nice save, Barton, nice save."

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 **New chapter will be up in three days. Hope you're enjoying this fanfiction and if you are, I'd appreciate it if you left a review.**

 **Stay tuned! xoxo**


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 3 and I am still pissed at AoU and Joss Whedon...**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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He helped her walk to her room in the quarters when she was finally discharged from the hospital. Both agents didn't have homes that they belonged to. But they had rooms and it was sufficent enough for them. To be more specific, they weren't _rooms_ actually. They were as big as an apartment and had every equipment they needed, maybe even more. Rooms even had their own _kitchens_.

When she finally sat on the couch in the bedroom, she sighed with comfort. That hospital bed was totally not comfortable.

Clint sat right beside her, both of them not talking. For some weird reason the atmosphere between them was tense. They had been good at the hospital but now it was awkwardly tense between the two assassins. Clint was still not over the fact that she had pulled her hand back as fast as a lightning and Natasha was still not over the fact that he was going to leave if she didn't survive the operation. Even though they knew none of these were big enough reasons to cause a tension, they couldn't help but feel weird.

Maybe it was because they both knew they had unanswered questions in their minds about their feelings. They were neither oblivious, nor in denial about their feelings for each other.

Clint felt like he was invading her personal space by sitting in her room, even though he had been here many times before. Hell, there were even times when they both had terrifying nightmares and slept in the same bed, holding onto each other as if their lives depended on it. They were best friends and they were just sitting on a couch; it wasn't supposed to feel like this.

Finally she turned her head and looked at him. He was looking at the ceiling thoughtfully. She could feel he was tense and keeping his distance from her. Then without thinking twice, she put her hand on his leg to get his attention.

He looked at her and smiled. It was a genuine smile, thank God. His smile broke the ice a little bit.

"Thank you." She said.

He put his hand on top of hers. "For what?"

"For everything."

They both looked at each other for a few minutes without talking. The tension was finally gone and all they wanted was to rest a little bit. It had been a few exhausting days for both of them.

Then before he could think twice about it, he let his body take control of him as he hugged her with all his might. He was really tired and didn't give a damn about what his mind was telling him. _This is unknown territory for her, stay away_ , his mind screamed. Well they hugged before, of course. But this hug was different. It was a way for him to convey his feelings to her. His hug made her understand how much he had been scared of losing her.

She was scared at first, if she had to be honest. She was scared because she had been scared of losing him too. His long, mascular arms were wrapped around her body tightly and she had never felt more home before. So she let herself hug him back.

His brain shut up when she wrapped her arms around his waist. He sighed with relief and put his head on the crook of her neck, his breaths soothing her. He could almost hear her heart beating really fast—just like his. They stood exactly like that until their breaths and hearts slowed down.

She was the first one to break the physical contact. She dared to look up at him who was already looking back at her.

"You need to sleep." He said after seeing the dark circles under her eyes from up close.

She was glad they were having a normal conversation and nothing felt awkward about the hug. "You should too. Look at yourself, you look like a mess."

He chuckled at her. "You absolutely know how to make a man feel handsome." He replied her sarcasticly and put a fake-sad expression on his face.

She arched a brow at him as she slowly unwrapped her arms from around him and put her hands on his chest. He was watching every single move she was doing, eyes fixed on her hands. She was looking at his face, watching his features change with every move she made. That's why she was moving painfully slow and grinning like a Cheshire cat.

With her hands on his chest, she moved her head closer to his, their foreheads touching. She was trying to play the seductress, a manipulation method she had used way too many times on different men before. But now looking at Clint, she knew it wasn't going to work. She wasn't going to be able to finish up her act because she had no courage to continue. It had always been impossible to put a mask in front of him. He knew her way too good to be fooled by the seductress, or the femme fatale mask. She knew she couldn't play with him when she had these feelings. She would hurt herself more than hurt him in the way of seducing him.

"You're always handsome." She whispered, not needing to talk loud. Her breath was hot on his lips and it was suffocating him. He wanted to kiss her so bad but had no courage to do it. If it had been any other man, he'd have already put her on the bed, exploring her body. But he was not _any other man_. This was Clint, the man who saved her, the man who became her first _friend,_ the man who accepted her with her rights and wrongs. So, unless he saw a green light kinda thing from her, he was going to stay away and keep his hands to himself. Plus, he had no fucking idea how it came to the point where they were about to kiss. He was so busy watching her actions that he didn't pay attention to how things turned out this way.

Then he reminded himself to relax and not freak her out with his stiff posture. So he cracked a smile at her, still looking into her eyes. He could count her eyelashes from this distance. They were inches away yet it felt like they were miles away.

His heart was beating crazy under her palms yet he wasn't doing anything. Was he _not_ affected by her? Natasha frowned and pulled away slightly to fully look at his face. Well, she saw his eyes darken when she told him he was always handsome but that was it. It disappeared as fast as it appeared. She couldn't help it when her brows furrowed. She couldn't _read_ him. There had been a few times in the past where she couldn't read him and here she was, not able to read him again. He was in absolute control of his face; it didn't give away anything.

But when he saw her frowning, her brows furrowed, he tried really hard not to laugh. She looked like a 5-year-old kid who hadn't been given candy on Halloween. She was confused and his lips started to twitch. He was suppresing a laughter because he knew it'd be rude to her. Then her brows furrowed more.

"What?" she asked, finally letting her curiosity talk.

"You're pouting." He replied, still trying not to laugh.

She tried to pull a normal face but failed miserably. "No, I'm not."

Now _that_ made him laugh. Natasha—Black Widow, pouting and denying it like a little child... It was worth a laugh, really.

She smacked his arm. "What's funny?" But when it made him laugh more, she smacked his arm again, harder this time.

"Ouch!"

Yeah, he deserved _that_.

When she tried to smack his arm again, he held her wrist. His features were softened from laughing and he was smiling at her wholeheartedly. She was still pouting but also knew she wasn't going to keep pouting for too long. His laughter was contagious—it seriously was.

He removed his hand from her wrist and put it on her cheek, caressing it with his thumb. "You're _still_ pouting."

She leaned in to his touch and looked at him. "Why can't I seduce you?" she whispered. She was genuinely wondering why he never showed any sexual attraction towards her. She knew she was beautiful, she knew she had the looks and the body... So, really, _why_ couldn't she seduce him? Even when she tries to seduce him jokingly, she would never get any reaction from him—apart from a laughter.

He looked genuinely surprised that she _so bluntly_ asked that. Was she really... _sad_ because she thought she _couldn't_ seduce him? He blinked twice, trying to process what she had just asked.

Then he decided to be blunt too, 'cause what the hell, right? "Oh you can seduce me, don't worry."

At that response, she looked more confused. Was he telling her what she wanted to hear or was he being purely honest with her? "But—"

He cut her before she could go on. "I'm just good at hiding my feelings, Nat. After all I'm a man, and you're a _very_ beautiful woman." He whispered the last part, his voice full of lust she didn't even know existed. That _lust_ was for her. _Her_.

Her eyes widened at that. She didn't think her blunt question would get such honesty from him. But it made her feel good, hearing these coming from him. Her lips cracked a smile and she tilted her head. "I'm a very beautiful woman?" It was both a question and a statement at the same time. She actually just wanted confirmation that she heard him right—and of course she wanted her ego to be boosted a little bit.

His smile turned into a grin as he slowly caressed her cheek.

"You very well know _you are_." He replied and pulled back from her completely. He dropped his hand to his side, already missing the warmth of her and got up from the couch. This _flirt_ session could go on forever if they wanted it to but right now they both needed a good night's sleep. "C'mon, you need to rest." He said and held out his hand to her.

She was dumbfounded by his sudden pullback. They were having a moment and he ruined it. _That damn man..._

Despite being angry with him because he ruined a beautiful moment, she held his hand and got up from the couch as well. Then he gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Good night, Tasha."

She was even more surprised when he left the room just like that. He left like they weren't about to kiss a few minutes ago. He was back to his normal self and she stood there, frozen. When he held out his hand to her, she thought they were going to sleep together in her bed. Instead, he chose to leave her all alone.

Then the fatigue took over her and she went to the bed, trying not to think further about the current situation.

What she didn't know was that it took all the power inside him to leave her all alone in that room. He wanted to sleep in the same bed with her, hug her, kiss her, whisper sweet things into her ear but the time wasn't right for any of that.

But for both of them, things would never go back to the way they were before... not anymore.

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 **So when I said "a little slow burn", I _really_ meant it. But things are developing already and I want them to keep developing for a little while. They can't just get together all of a sudden, right? **

**New chapter's up in two days.**

 **Stay tuned xoxo**


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I still own nothing.**

 **A/N: By the way, I noticed that I had forgotten to add author's note in earlier chapters. English is not my native tongue, so excuse my mistakes if there are any. Thanks.**

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When she woke up the next morning, she felt like hell. She really had a hard time falling to sleep and finally when she did, she saw Clint in her dream. Nothing exactly happened in the dream; she just saw them holding hands and walking on the beach like those lovesick people in romance movies. This wasn't her. Thinking about Clint, dreaming about him, almost kissing him... All these already started affecting her and it was a dangerous thing. She was a spy, she needed to be fully focused all the time. She couldn't afford daydreaming or being in deep thoughts throughout the day or work.

But she was _already_ affected by him. She had always been intrigued by him anyway, but this was different. And now she was afraid of seeing him because she thought it was going to be awkward. Yesterday was a no-return-road for both of them. She couldn't act like nothing happened and she knew that was _exactly_ what she had to do. She had to act like nothing happened. But she deep down inside she _hoped_ he wouldn't act like nothing happened.

They needed to talk but she was scared to be the one to start the conversation.

She sat on the couch as she looked at the clock on the wall. It was 6 a.m. and as far as she knew, they had no mission for today. She could either go have breakfast in the cafeteria or she could go and start training in the training room.

Either way, she _had to_ get out of that room. She knew she was going to face him eventually. No need to act like a coward. She had never been a coward in her entire life and she wasn't going to become one now.

Fiercely, she stood up and went to the door. Just as she was about to open it, someone else from the other side knocked on it. She turned the doorknob and opened the door slowly. She knew who was on the other side very well.

"Morning." He greeted her with a tight smile on his face. He hadn't had much sleep too apparently.

She just gave him a curt nod as an answer. She was not feeling well. This was way too much for her to handle. Having deep feelings for someone, trying to talk but not being able to do it, being known like an open book so well by a man... None of these had actually mattered when they were in the friendzone. But after last night, when things were finally brought to the surface by both of them, she felt like running away from him. She wanted to run away without looking back. Yet, she had no strength to do that either. She was aware that she was in way too deep to do that.

She saw him looking at her like he was trying to understand what was going on in her mind. Feeling uncomfortable, she walked past him without uttering another word. Well, at least she _tried_ to.

He grabbed her arm and turned her around to face him. Now he looked really pissed. "Don't tell me you'll be avoiding me from now on."

She pulled her arm back fiercely but his hold was too strong. Trying to get away from his hold only made her be pulled by him more. Clint, with one swift move, brought her as close as he could get and now their chests touched. She was feeling more pissed than ever. "Let go of me." She hissed at him.

His jaw ticked with anger. "So you _will_ be avoiding me?" he repeated his question.

She looked around them to see if anyone was there. They were in the hall for God's sake, anyone could see their stupid arguement. "Let go of my arm, Barton."

He tightened his grip on her arm. "Then answer my question."

Now _that_ was it. She didn't give a fuck who would see or not and headbutted him as hard as she could. He stumbled back, letting go of her arm in the process. She blew a punch to his face but he ducked just in time and avoided it. Both of their foreheads hurt and both of them were seeing things blurry but that didn't stop them.

She tried to kick him in the stomach but he grabbed her leg and twisted it. With her leg, her whole body turned and she freed herself from his grasp. He wrapped his arm around her neck from behind her and gave enough pressure to it so that he'd trap her but not hurt her at the same time. Then he kicked her room's door open with his leg and dragged her with him. Just when he was going to let go of her, she bit his arm hard. Yes, she was playing dirty but she didn't care.

He immediately released her, looking at his arm to see how bad the bite mark was. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he yelled at her as he felt the pain spread to his whole arm. She could bite really bad if she wanted to.

"You didn't let go of my arm." She deadpanned him as she still stood in defence position, facing him.

"And that made you decide to _headbutt_ me? Jesus Christ, Nat!" he took a step back from her as he yelled. Then he gave up. He hadn't had a good night's sleep and he was in no shape of fighting her. Black Widow's temper was really a nasty thing. "You know what? You can avoid me all you want. I just wanted to... God, I just wanted to talk to you and you're acting like a teenage girl." He snapped at her.

That only made her angrier. "Get the fuck out of my room this second!" she yelled back at him.

With that, he stormed out of her room, passing a few people with shocked faces. They had forgotten the room's door was open the whole time they argued for the last three minutes. People have heard their yelling and came to the hall, trying to figure out what was going on. When they all understood that Hawkeye and Black Widow were fighting, they couldn't help themselves but eavesdrop the whole arguement.

People were _definetely_ gonna talk...

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 **Sadly, I do not know when I'll be able to update again. My finals are going to start in a few days and believe me, being a third year university student is not easy. So, I might not be able to update as fast as I did the first three chapters.**

 **Anyways... hope you're still enjoying the story.**

 **Till next chapter...**

 **xoxo**


	5. Chapter 4

**Sorry for the huge delay, but I've been pretty busy and I honestly don't know what else to say about it. I hope you're still around here somewhere and reading this new chapter! (:**

 **Disclaimer:** I still do not own anything except this fanfiction. I wish I did though...

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"You're moping."

"No, I'm not moping."

"Yes, you are."

"I am not, _drop it_ , Phil."

It's been exactly a week since his fight with Natasha and all he had been doing was moping around. Coulson didn't really care at first, he thought they'd just make up and Clint would return to his normal self. But no. These two stubborn idiots were not going to make up anytime soon, that was for sure. His depressed and angry mood was affecting everyone around him and it got really annoying at some point. Coulson just wanted to point it out to him and apparently, Clint was not going to tell him what had happened between him and Natasha. A few people talked about it in the headquarters, but the gossip only remained as quiet whispers because they were all scared of Black Widow's infamous wrath.

Because of the glares they both gave each other, Coulson didn't dare give them a mission where they'd have to team up together. They could endanger the mission or kill each other. The second option scared him more than endangering a mission to be honest.

Eventually, Clint was going to have to tell Coulson everything. At least that's what Coulson was thinking. He would force his way to get the words out of his stubborn mouth and Clint knew that. He just didn't care. He was not going to tell anyone anything about their fight. It was nobody's business.

"Look, your mood is shitty, Clint. It's not affecting the missions yet but it eventually will. Just talk to me about it." Coulson tried a different approach. He was his friend and he thought a friendly approach would be better.

He was _very wrong_.

"Fuck off." Was all the answer he got from him. Before he could say something in return, Natasha came into the room and nodded at Coulson to acknowledge his presence. Coulson did the same and eyed Clint warily. Clint didn't even turn his head to look at her. Natasha, on the other hand, was sending daggers to him from her eyes. Clint could feel her eyes opening holes in his neck but he still didn't turn to her.

Natasha was not a person who would make a scene in front of all these people. But she had been wanting to talk to him for the past seven days. She was just stubborn about it. It was hard not being able to talk to him. Hell, it's been years of their friendship and he would be the first person she'd ever say goodmorning to in the mornings. It felt lonely without his company and she finally admitted that to herself last night. She was having nightmares and he was not by her side to calm her. She was ready to admit she had been a bitch to him a week ago if it was going to get him back to her side. Her side where he belonged.

She thought twice about what kind of approach she was supposed to use. Her damn pride was screaming at her not to give a damn, not to talk to him. But her heart was screaming at her pride to shut the hell up.

For once in her life, she could leave her pride behind her. Yes, she could do that and she was going to.

She opened her mouth to say something but Agent Hill cut her by coming into the room and saying her hellos to everyone, including the two assassins. Then her gaze turned to the two of them and she smiled politely. "Fury wants to see you both."

That made Natasha and Clint look at each other for a milisecond before turning their heads back to Hill. Then they slowly, side by side, followed Hill to Nick Fury's private office. Hill was walking in front of them, trying to give them their space. Everybody knew about their arguement and everybody tried to leave them both alone as much as possible. Nothing worked, though. The two assassins were just way too stubborn to get through this.

The tension in the air grew more as they slowly reached their destination. Nobody talked, the only noise was the sound of Hill and Natasha's heels clicking. When they were finally in front of the office door, Hill opened it and waited for the both of them to enter first. Clint, like always, gestured Natasha to go in first and then went into the office behind her. Fury was standing in front of the big, wide window of his office. His back was to them when he started talking.

"I have a mission for Strike Team: Delta, but I cannot be sure of the two of you."

That made Clint and Natasha glance at each other, both confused. "What do you mean, sir?" asked Natasha with a calm and collected posture. But deep down inside, she knew the answer to her question.

Fury turned to them and sat on his big desk chair. He folded his arms on his chest and looked at them knowingly.

"I've heard that you two are on bad terms. I think that's a big problem you have to solve as soon as possible, because I'm not losing my most valuable team for a stupid ass reason. This mission is important and I need to know if you can successfully accomplish it." His voice was a little threatening but he was saying the truth. The mission he was going to give them was an important one and his best team was not talking to each other. It was _not_ an option for neither of them. They were agents, spies... They didn't have the luxury to be moping around the quarters, giving each other dirty looks, snapping at other agents for no reason. They had to be professional. And Nick Fury needed to know whether or not they could manage to be professional on this mission. Not that they've never been professional, no, it was not the deal for him. But he was _worried_ for them. Their moods were affecting their performance and he certainly didn't want that.

"Yes, sir, we can obviously accomplish it." Clint said with an irritated voice. He folded his arms, his jaw ticking with anger. He was certainly not ready to go on a mission with Natasha but he was in no way going to make it obvious to Fury.

Natasha slowly nodded. "Yes, sir, we can." She was also not ready to go on the field with Clint. Yet, they were both going to be professionals and keep everything behind themselves to accomplish the mission. At least that's what they've been thinking.

After a few minutes passed, Fury sighed and stood up from his chair. "Then you're dismissed." He finally said.

Both the assasins left the office with a not-so-happy face. Clint looked at Natasha and saw her looking back at him. Their eyes locked and neither looked away for a few minutes. It was Clint who finally interrupted the silence between them.

"Then I'll see you in the training area." He said as he shrugged. He was already walking down the hall before Natasha could say something in return.

 _That bastard_ , Natasha thought as she retired to her room. She was in no way going to go to that training area when Clint was there.

* * *

 **Okay, not a really good chapter I know but I've been really busy and it's because I'm going to go to Moscow for a whole month (both for education and vacation)! Preparations have taken a little long and I had no time in between to finish this chapter. I hope you enjoy it and I hope you'll stick around for the new chapter which I'll probably be able to post after a month.**

 **Till then...**

 **xoxo louvreangel**


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